TOMORROW

The often dark nights I find myself standing on this old old timber,
‎With a maize husk I held a little beneath my lips I sang gently to the audient lake,
‎Visiting owl from a distance making grumpy sounds I imagine to be my backup singer,
‎I plea the universe positivity for my genuine sake.
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‎Its the day after yesterday and the old sun is risen again,
‎On my old awaiting timber I stand tall,
‎Lunching on grandpa’s ginger snack with smiles of vain;
‎I let a loud victorious voice of harmonized melody that could make the trees fall.
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‎The village I sang to and the world I’ll sing to soon,
‎On and on around in my country boots,
‎I’ll sing songs come sun come moon,
‎Flying in the sky with my visiting ‘hoot’.
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‎So quavering paths are buried and gone,
‎Its time anew for life mercy tone.
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